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Blogging by and for academic and research librariansWed, 20 Sep 2017 16:30:24 +0000en-UShourly1https://wordpress.org/?v=4.8.2HLS/ACRlog: How to Encourage and Assist New Subject Librarianshttp://acrlog.org/2017/09/20/hlsacrlog-how-to-encourage-and-assist-new-subject-librarians/
http://acrlog.org/2017/09/20/hlsacrlog-how-to-encourage-and-assist-new-subject-librarians/#respondWed, 20 Sep 2017 16:27:58 +0000http://acrlog.org/?p=7075Continue reading HLS/ACRlog: How to Encourage and Assist New Subject Librarians→]]>Today we welcome a post by Zoë McLaughlin as part of our collaboration with Hack Library School . Zoë McLaughlin is a Master’s student at the University of Michigan’s School of Information. She plans to become an area studies librarian focused on Southeast Asia. Her main area of focus is Indonesia, though lately she spends a lot of her time cataloging Malay-language books and learning Thai. In her spare time, she translates Indonesian fiction and poetry, writes fiction, reads everything she can get her hands on, and dances. Find her on Twitter,LinkedIn, or at herpersonal blog.

This summer, I attended a meeting that brought together a number of people with an interest in Southeast Asia, including subject librarians. During the meeting, someone brought up the question of how to encourage and assist people who might want to become Southeast Asia subject librarians themselves. I did not have any answers at the time, but I’ve since done some thinking about institutional memory, my current precarious-feeling position in the field, and what the future might hold. With this in mind, I’d like to present some suggestions for encouraging and helping newcomers to Southeast Asia librarianship and to subject librarianship more broadly.

Provide short-term opportunities

The internships I’ve completed have been invaluable in learning about a specialized field. I can acquire general knowledge of library science in my classes, but working in a real working environment teaches new skills that I cannot learn anywhere else. I’ve learned about Romanization tables and how to acquire government publications. We didn’t talk about this in library school.

If you have a short-term project and you could use some help, please circulate that information. While paid internships and other short-term opportunities are obviously ideal, publicize unpaid opportunities as well—I might be able to find the funding on my own. This way, I can learn from you; you can get help with a project; and the commitment required from both of us is specific and relatively small.

Provide extended opportunities

Again, I recognize that finding funding for anything, particularly something long-term, can be a challenge. However, this is the most direct way to influence my professional trajectory and pass on institutional knowledge. As I begin my own job search, I am considering applying to residencies as a way to get this sort of experience for myself. That said, residencies are few and far between, especially ones with an area studies focus.

But imagine a residency geared specifically toward training new subject librarians. This would provide space for new librarians to learn and for seasoned librarians to teach, while removing the pressures of working in what can often be a solitary subject librarian position.

A program such as this would take work to pull off, which leads me to my next point:

Advocate from within your institution

Situated within a university, you are already positioned to advocate for change in a way that I am not. Propose the creation of learning opportunities—short- and long-term—for emerging professionals to learn the intricacies of the field. Large, institutional changes need to come from within. Push for the creation of new residency programs or formalized internship programs. Present your concerns about the future of the field to your library and ask for help in finding solutions.

Provide guidance

If you are not in a position to provide large or extensive opportunities, your guidance and advice is still invaluable. Let me know about conferences, meetings, and other events that you think might interest me or might benefit my professional growth. I cannot stress how important it was when my mentor offhandedly mentioned that I might want to attend the Association for Asian Studies conference. Not only did I learn much more about the profession simply from attending meetings at the conference, I also made contacts that led me to securing my summer internship.

Small conversations can also benefit me greatly: tell me about the path that led to your current job, tell me about how you track down hard-to-find books, tell me about useful contacts that you’ve made over the years and how you managed to make them. Informal conversations can be as helpful as more formal opportunities.

Foster partnerships between institutions

Especially in a field as small as Southeast Asian studies, we are spread out between institutions and locations. New librarians are just at the beginning of their careers while others are retiring; the retention of institutional memory extends beyond a single university’s walls. Working together, we can share knowledge and collaborate on projects larger than those within a single institution. This can ensure broad continuity and smoother transitions moving forward.

Reach out and we can work together! Ultimately, we’re both interested in furthering knowledge about our specific field, so let’s figure out ways to make that happen!

]]>http://acrlog.org/2017/09/20/hlsacrlog-how-to-encourage-and-assist-new-subject-librarians/feed/0HLS/ACRLog: First Generation College Students and the Job Search with an MLIShttp://acrlog.org/2017/09/13/hlsacrlog-first-generation-college-students-and-the-job-search-with-an-mlis/
http://acrlog.org/2017/09/13/hlsacrlog-first-generation-college-students-and-the-job-search-with-an-mlis/#commentsWed, 13 Sep 2017 15:52:53 +0000http://acrlog.org/?p=7069Continue reading HLS/ACRLog: First Generation College Students and the Job Search with an MLIS→]]>Today we welcome a post by Chloe Waryan as part of our collaboration with Hack Library School . Chloe Waryanis a MLIS candidate at the University of Iowa. She entered into the library field by way of urban public libraries, as a patron, a volunteer, and eventually an employee. She now works as a technical editor for an academic journal. Chloe’s professional interests include access, preservation, and outreach.

I am not sure if any time is “the best time” to choose to go to graduate school for library and information science, but 2016 was definitely an interesting choice. Growing up, I knew very few professionals with college degrees, so I was not prepared for the relative poverty that most graduate students live in today. Like many of my classmates, paying for library school is constantly on my mind, as it is the biggest purchase I’ve ever made. There is an immense privilege attached to going to college, yet it comes with an extreme price tag. Despite our oversharing culture, high tuition has become the new normal and it is hardly ever discussed. It’s a confusing time. Is it hypocritical for academics to complain about high tuition? Can students be against degree inflation while still being supportive of the education we are receiving? The hardest part of starting library school last year wasn’t the coursework or the final exams. It was attempting to wrestle with the value and the values of my soon-to-be-obtained MLIS.

We’ve all heard the phrase: “the college degree is becoming the new high school diploma!” This means that despite the high tuition, the college students today are not the elite. Students from all economic classes are awarded the great opportunity to attend college, with help from scholarships and loans. According to the 2010 study from the Department of Education, an estimated 50% of all college students currently enrolled are first generation college students (including myself), who are statistically at a greater risk for dropping out due to many factors, one being imposter syndrome.

Have you ever hesitated to apply for a job because you think you’re not qualified? That is imposter syndrome. Imposter syndrome has the potential to follow students not only through their bachelor’s programs, but their graduate programs and job search. According to many postings on the ALAJoblist, one must have an MLIS to become an academic librarian. Often time, a second master’s degree or Ph.D. is preferred. Amidst the ever-changing environment of higher education, we are no longer advocating towards lifelong learning as “a key to longer, healthier, more satisfying and productive lives,” (Education and Continuous Learning, ALA) but rather, pushing “lifelong learning to stay employed,” (Kim, 2). If degree inflation continues in this rate, a Ph.D. will be required to hold a librarian position. If that becomes the case, who will we be excluding?

I admire librarians who have decades of library experience but no college degree. When I graduate, they will still be far more experienced than I. They are the toughest, smartest, kindest professionals, and I consider them pioneers in their field. My hero librarians have gained their expertise by working in a professional environment, taking classes as non-degree seeking students, critically thinking on their own, and of course, through reading books. They do not see gaining a library job as an endgame, but rather as an opportunity to potentially learn what they were not afforded to learn in college. If they applied for another job either laterally or higher up, they would not get the position because of their lack of formal education. Potential employers would be missing out on their creativity, productivity, and entrepreneurial spirit. I have also known librarians who have Ph.D.s who have seem to forgotten the core values of librarianship. We are working with two different sets of standards: one set is formal education and one set is experience. Hiring committees should be able to reflect in their postings that both sets have merit. If anyone can compromise between two different sets of standards, a librarian can.

By putting a college degree on a pedestal, we exclude others who have chosen not to get or who are barred from getting the education with which we are privileged. If degree inflation continues, I predict that the LIS field will include those who feel comfortable in an academic setting, thus excluding the first generation college students currently enrolled in America (which, as a reminder, is half of everyone currently enrolled in college). Why are we not hiring people who accurately represent the demographics of our school? I will add that this is not necessarily all our fault, as much of this comes from administration and union restraints, from the competitive job market and from our fear-driven economy. Theanxiety and fear we face as library professionals in America right now is overwhelming. We can only try to be more welcoming to those who offer unique perspectives.

To be clear, I do not think that the MLIS isn’t valuable. It is a huge accomplishment. Aside from luck, convenience and privilege, I work towards a master’s degree because I want a job that I enjoy, and I want to prepare myself for that job through a combination of schooling and work. However, I must admit that the thought of applying for a job as an academic library is incredibly intimidating. I have heard stories about the all-day interviews. I have been told to save a few thousand dollars to travel to interviews. I have also been told to brush up on my dining etiquette because the casual lunch “counts.” Even after overcoming the struggles of a first generation college student, I fear that I am unemployable. As academic librarians, you have a responsibility to your students and your applicants. It is your responsibility to show these new faces that they have unique perspectives needed in their respective fields, their institution is proud to be represented by them, continuing education is something to be admired and it is never a burden to ask for help. You also have a responsibility to yourself. Show that the journey doesn’t end with the completion of the degree. Welcome and learn from your coworkers. Despite the larger issues in America, patience and compassion towards everyone, no matter what socioeconomic background, can create a new era in which everyone will want to become librarians.

Thank you to ACRLog and Hack Library School for this opportunity.

References:

Cardoza, Kavitha. “First-Generation College Students Are Not Succeeding in College, and

]]>http://acrlog.org/2017/09/13/hlsacrlog-first-generation-college-students-and-the-job-search-with-an-mlis/feed/1HLS/ACRLog: Academic Librarianship: alt-ac and plan A, all in onehttp://acrlog.org/2017/09/06/hlsacrlog-academic-librarianship-alt-ac-and-plan-a-all-in-one/
http://acrlog.org/2017/09/06/hlsacrlog-academic-librarianship-alt-ac-and-plan-a-all-in-one/#respondWed, 06 Sep 2017 17:33:29 +0000http://acrlog.org/?p=7066Continue reading HLS/ACRLog: Academic Librarianship: alt-ac and plan A, all in one→]]>Today we welcome a post by Ian Harmon as part of our collaboration with Hack Library School . Ian Harmonis an MSLIS student at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign and a Graduate Assistant in the Scholarly Commons, the University Library’s digital scholarship center. Prior to entering library school, he earned a PhD in Philosophy at Illinois and taught philosophy at Rice University. Ian is interested in digital humanities and scholarly communication, specifically the ways in which technology impacts research and the dissemination of scholarship. He enjoys teaching, and hopes to work in an academic setting that will allow him to work directly with students and other researchers. Ian is also passionate about the role that libraries serve as central institutions of the public sphere and supporters of the common good.

The easy way to describe my pursuit of a career in academic librarianship would be as a Plan B. Nevertheless, I avoid describing it as such because the expression suggests that it’s my second choice, or that I’m settling for something less. This couldn’t be further from the truth. As I begin the second year of my LIS program, I’m more confident that I’m on the right path than I ever was while following my “Plan A.” And when I find myself thinking that I should have considered a career in libraries earlier on, I remind myself that, had I not taken my long path to librarianship, I might never have gotten on the path at all.

My Plan A was to be a philosophy professor. I became a philosophy major my sophomore year of college, after having taken a couple of electives in the field during my freshman year. As a 20 year old, I wasn’t concerned with things like making money, finding a job, or learning “practical skills.” Rather, I was interested in doing something I enjoyed, and I assumed that everything else would take care of itself. But even though I was a philosophy major for the majority of my college career, I never really thought about what I was going to do after graduation. By the time I was a senior, I supposed that I should probably go to graduate school (what else was I going to do with a philosophy degree?), and then become a professor.

I didn’t have a clue what I was doing as I applied to grad school, but I was fortunate enough to wind up at a strong MA program at the University of Wyoming. There, I really began to learn about philosophy the profession, as opposed to the field of study. While I wouldn’t admit it at the time, the more I learned about the philosophy profession, the less sure I felt that I was pursuing a path that would lead me to a career that I would enjoy. The warnings about the competitive nature of the field had been too abstract for me to take seriously as an undergrad. But things became more concrete during my Master’s, as I applied to PhD programs and received rejection after rejection.

Looking back, it stands out that I never once considered exploring other careers. I felt too far invested in philosophy to make a change, and the thought of doing so seemed like it would be an admission of failure. So I pushed on, completed my thesis and was eventually accepted to the PhD program at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign (where I am now an MSLIS student). It felt like I had made it past an important milestone, but this would only serve to foster the development of some major imposter syndrome as I began my new program. My insecurities aside, I continued to do well, and started to think that maybe I was doing the right thing after all. Moreover, I started thinking I would be one of the fortunate few who would actually get a tenure-track job after graduation.

Despite my success within the PhD program, the job market proved to be the nightmare that had always been promised to me. But as fate would have it, I was able to put off considerations of an alternative to philosophy for a bit longer, as in April of my final year I was offered a one year position in the Philosophy Department at Rice University. No, it wasn’t a tenure track job, but surely, I thought, it would serve as a great springboard for more permanent opportunities.

I enjoyed my time at Rice, but I began to feel a sense of isolation that I hadn’t encountered as a graduate student. Outside of my teaching duties, most of my work hours were spent alone in my office, or surrounded by strangers at a coffee shop. These experiences helped me to discover that what I enjoyed the most about academia was interacting with other people, whether through teaching or conversing with colleagues or fellow grad students.

Meanwhile I wasn’t having any luck on the tenure-track job market, and early in the Spring semester of my year in Houston I decided it was time to make a change. I started exploring alternative careers, but initially, I just needed some way to pay the bills. Unfortunately, nothing really jumped out at me. Libraries finally entered the picture when my aunt, a public librarian, suggested that I consider pursuing an MSLIS. The idea of working at a library appealed to me, but I was hesitant to go back to school, having spent less than a year of my adult life as a non-student. But my aunt had planted the seed of an idea in my head that would continue to grow.

After finishing the year at Rice, I moved back to Champaign, Illinois, where I had a support network of friends (and a fiancee who is now my wife), and began looking for work. I spent the summer as a meat clerk at a grocery store, when my mom mentioned a position she’d seen at the University Library that she thought I should apply for. This would prove to be the break I needed, as I was fortunate enough to land the job and become the Office Manager of the Scholarly Commons, the U of I Library’s digital scholarship center. Needless to say, I loved the job. I loved the collegiality throughout the library and the collaborative nature of the work. I loved the fact that I was learning new things everyday, and most importantly, that the main purpose of my job was to help other people.

Long story short, I’m finally on the career path that’s right for me. I have to admit that, at times, it feels like I wasted a lot of time during my short lived philosophy career. But ultimately, I have no regrets. I won’t be a philosophy professor, and that’s okay because I don’t want to be a philosophy professor. Contrary to what someone once told me, if I was offered such a job, I wouldn’t take it, because that’s not my Plan A.

Academic librarianship is my Plan A. It’s not what I thought my Plan A was for a long time, and it’s a lengthier plan that I realized. But it’s mine, and I stand by it.

I am a Texan, born and raised in the Rio Grande Valley. I spent almost 10 years in Houston before moving to the mid-Atlantic in 2009. Rice University is my alma mater, and my first library job was at the University of Houston. Houston is where I learned to be a librarian, and really, an adult. I love that city so much that my family and I decided to spend our sabbatical year in town. Our place, our things, our family is fine. But others cannot say the same. So I want to spend this post sharing all the ways in which you can help Houston, Rockport, Dickinson, Corpus Christi, Port Arthur, Beaumont, and all the small Texas towns that felt the brunt of Harvey’s destruction.

I understand we are not all in a position to give financially, nor are we all in close enough proximity to lend a pair of hands or a hammer, so I would just ask for your emotional support for folks suffering in Harvey’s wake. Chances are you wouldn’t read that national article bad-mouthing Houston to a group of evacuees sheltering at the George R. Brown Convention Center, so don’t post it on Facebook or Twitter.

“I need to drop this class because I’m a visual learner and my professor doesn’t use PowerPoint.” – A student, overheard by one of the co-authors

What do we mean when we say learning styles?

Learning style theories propose that there are certain methods that will enable students to improve their learning. Individual students have innate learning styles that can be discovered and categorized, and when these styles are properly matched with specific pedagogical techniques, academic achievement will increase. For example, a visual learner will benefit most when images are used in class, while an audio learner will achieve more if the same content is provided aurally.

Unlike the Learning Pyramid myth that we addressed in a previous post, where all variations in the theory of the pyramid can be traced back to one common point, there are many learning style theories that have developed independently of each other. You are probably familiar with at least a few. One of the most popular learning styles theories is the VARK: Visual, Auditory, Reading, and Kinesthetic, put forward by Neil Fleming (Fleming & Mills, 1992), adapted from Stirling’s VAK. Others include Kolb’s Learning Style Inventory; Dunn, Dunn & Price’s Learning Style Inventory Honey & Mumford’s LS theory with the categories of Activists, Pragmatists, Theorists, and Reflectors.

While learning style theories do not have one central root like the Pyramid theory, they do have similarities. Hyman and Rosoff (1984), identified four common traits in learning style theories: 1) they try to find out what an individual’s learning style is, 2) categorize it using broad categories 3) match it with a teacher versed in that category, and 4) educate teachers to conduct steps 1-3, thereby repeating the cycle and ensuring the theory’s longevity. In Coffield et al.’s systematic review (2004), they categorized over fifty learning style theories by their key concepts, as shown below.

While there are many different theories behind learning styles, we will use the general phrase “learning styles,” meaning students benefit most when the teaching mode aligns with their particular style.

Higher education literature is full of articles and books about learning styles, and how instructors should tailor their classes to suit different styles in order to support student learning. A quick search in the Library, Informations Science, and Technology Abstracts database showed over 100 articles about learning styles published in just the last 5 years. Many educational articles and websites suggest librarians incorporate different modes of teaching into their learning in order to appeal to the different learning styles.

Another sign that learning styles have gained wide acceptance is its inclusion in Google Snippets, which provides excerpts at the top of a Google search results page. While Google has had issues with offering incorrect information for many different searches, it is feasible that a casual searcher would see this image and assume it to be factual.

Fig. 2 Screenshot of a Google search results page for learning styles

Why are learning styles theories false?

Quite bluntly, despite many studies, there is no scientific evidence to support the claim that meshing the learning style with teaching mode improves student learning. The absence of positive evidence has left the door open for supporters of various theories argue that their favored theory works for them, falling into the trap of confirmation bias. In an excellent article from 2015 discussing why these theories persist, Willingham, Hughes, and Dobolyi explain that learning style theories will not die, because “it is impossible to prove something does not exist.” The authors go on to critique two core components of any of these theories. One, the assumption that despite different environments, an attributed individual learning style is consistent. Two, that regardless of that environment or what is being taught, if the individual’s learning style is matched, their learning will improve. There have been systematic reviews, some including meta-analysis, with rigorous methodologies that have come up empty-handed.

There is a dearth of foundational, scholarly, peer-reviewed literature underpinning learning style theories. Stahl (1999) provides an excellent critique of the lack of peer-reviewed foundational references in Carbo’s Reading Styles Inventory theory, Fleming’s 1992 article on VARK references an article published in a current affairs magazine the New Zealand Listener, and the list goes on. In the (very interesting!) book “50 Great Myths of Popular Psychology, ” authors note that decades of research has failed to provide reliable ways to assess people’s styles, evidence as to whether you can train teachers to adapt their teaching to such styles, or even what constitutes a learning style (pp. 95-96).

Several years ago, Willingham increased his longstanding reward for a researcher proving a learning style theory produces meaningful learning benefits from $1,000 to $5,000. There has as yet been no winner, with a design proving such theories are sound, but not for lack of trying. But why should this be a surprise? Learning style theories ultimately fall apart due to their own processes. By creating categories through cherry picking key attributes, then trying to fit individuals to these labels to elicit positive learning outcomes, they ignore the many other factors that influence learning.

The lure of learning styles

Despite many publications and presentations debunking learning styles, the myth continues to endure. Pashler et al. argue that we are instinctively drawn to tests that group people into different categories, like the Myers-Briggs test, despite little proof that such tests are valid. We like to group others, and we like to take quizzes about ourselves. A quick Google search brings up many free versions of the Learning Styles Inventory. We can see the pop culture version of this fascination in Buzzfeed quizzes like “Which Harry Potter character are you?” or “What kind of natural disaster are you?”

Librarians may be drawn to learning styles as a way to connect to students we only see once or twice. We don’t have the opportunity to get to know students in our library sessions very well, limiting our ability to tailor the workshop to those students’ particular strengths and interests. But if we design our classes to appeal to all different learning styles, then we could say we are being responsive to different students’ needs.

The commercialization of learning styles has also kept them alive. Some publishers include learning style surveys as activities within textbooks, especially texts aimed at “first year experience”-type classes. In these works, identifying one’s learning style is presented as a strategy to become a better student. This situation is a bit of a chicken-or-egg one: do textbooks include learning styles because instructors demand them, or do instructors teach learning styles because the textbooks include them? Either way, their inclusion understandably leads to the students’ and instructors’ assumption that learning styles are accepted and uncontroversial.

What’s the harm?

Because learning styles are not supported by research, you run the risk of diminishing your credibility by including them in conversations with other teaching faculty or other knowledgeable colleagues. Candice recently attended a pedagogy conference; in one session, the presenter mentioned “learning styles” in passing and the whole crowd groaned. (Conversely, because people can become very invested in learning myths, we recommend you respond tactfully if an administrator or professor speaks positively about learning styles.)

The learning styles myth can also be harmful to people’s perceptions of their own or others’ abilities. Carol Dweck’s research on mindset found that many people believe that personality, intelligence, and talent are things people are either born with–or not. As Dweck puts it, “They have a certain amount of brains and talent and nothing can change that.” Teachers and students who have a fixed mindset will view learning styles as natural limitations. You simply can’t expect someone–or yourself–to learn something if it’s not in the correct learning style. As Professor Frank Coffield said in an interview, “We do students a serious disservice by implying they have only one learning style, rather than a flexible repertoire from which to choose, depending on the context.” We see this self-limiting viewpoint expressed in the opening quote, and believe it is an unhelpful concept.

Grains of truth

Can we salvage anything from the idea of learning styles? Although we hope our debunking has successfully removed “learning style” from your pedagogical teaching statement, we leave you with this advice:

Accept that learners do have preferences and strengths. Some people read quickly; some love mechanical tasks. (Interestingly, at least one study showed a very weak correlation between learning styles and learning preferences.) It is important to understand that no one teaching method will work for everyone. As Pashler et al. state, “it is undoubtedly the case that a particular student will sometimes benefit from having a particular kind of course content presented in one way versus another. One suspects that educators’ attraction to the idea of learning styles partly reflects their (correctly) noticing how often one student may achieve enlightenment from an approach that seems useless for another student” (p. 116).

Flip learning styles to teaching modes. The different modes (visual, auditory, kinesthetic, etc.) need to change as your subject matter does. If you are teaching someone how to drive a car, we really, really hope you are giving your student a kinesthetic experience and not simply verbally explaining how to drive. On a more library-specific topic: when we teach about incorporating sources into your paper, we use the analogy of music sampling. This is most effective when we play the songs we discuss. Consider which mode might be most effective to what you’re teaching (while also considering student accommodations, of course).

Think multimodal. There is evidence that learners benefit when instructors mix the modes up: a little lecture followed by a pair-and-share, a visual demonstration and then some hands-on practice. Changing up the modes will appeal to different students’ strengths and preferences, and will increase attention in the class.

Final words

Hopefully, you now consider yourself armed with the tools to help put an end to the myth of learning style theories. And what about the next time you hear a student or colleague voicing an opinion about learning styles, similar to the one we quoted in the beginning of our post? You will have solid, research-based arguments to counter their beliefs, and well-founded pedagogical teaching methods with which to replace their misguided learning style theory.

]]>http://acrlog.org/2017/08/29/tales-of-the-undead-learning-theories-learning-styles/feed/0Professionalism in the Workplacehttp://acrlog.org/2017/08/27/professionalism-in-the-workplace/
http://acrlog.org/2017/08/27/professionalism-in-the-workplace/#commentsSun, 27 Aug 2017 22:22:29 +0000http://acrlog.org/?p=7060Continue reading Professionalism in the Workplace→]]>What does professionalism mean to you? It might be that I was not paying attention, but I remember my professors in library school only touching on professionalism a couple of times. Merriam-Webster’s online dictionary defines professionalism as “the conduct, aims, or qualities that characterize or mark a profession or a professional person”

This could be understood in a different manner of ways. However, I always thought that to have professionalism was to have common sense. Don’t be mean, don’t make crude jokes, and don’t do anything that you would not want someone to do to you. But we do live in a time where politicians use social media as their main way of communicating with their constituents, where we use social media as a way to network, and where we make our opinions known to hundreds and hundreds of people. While maintaining a professional social media appearance, we must also remember our everyday interactions with our colleagues. Over the past two years, I have gained more institutional knowledge and have learned when to stay out of office politics or how to navigate through them. While I am not an expert and recognize that everyone is at different institutions or work places, here are some tips on how to grow and learn from your own professionalism.

Observe and learn from the successes and mistakes of other colleagues. I personally learn best from observing others. How did they handle tough situations? What did they say? What was their body language like?

Pick your battles. This is a tough one. Sometimes you feel so frustrated at certain things, but stop and think about it. Is this worth all the effort? Is it worth your time? Will this get resolved? And realistically, what will probably happen?

What is the root of the problem? This might be a tough one, because a lot times, the root of the problem is a much bigger problem of the institution as a whole. This is not something you can take on on your own, but might be worth bringing up.

Know your strengths. How can these strengths help you contribute to problem solving or group work?

Recognize your weaknesses. What do you need to work on and how can you improve?

Who is your support system at work? Sometimes, you might get frustrated with either people or situations at work. Who has your trust and who can you turn to in these times?

What are your personal rules? While every institution has their issues, ultimately, you’re the one that has to look out for you. What are your own rules in terms of getting involved in office politics? You don’t have to write them down, but it’s a good idea to have a mental list

I have only been an academic librarian for the past 2 years. While I have learned and observed a lot, I also feel like it’s only the tip of the iceberg. For those middle-career and more seasoned librarians, what lessons have you learned? What tips do you have?

Jen: I started a new job at a new institution about two and a half weeks ago after 11 years at my previous institution. This new institution is rather different than my former one. That was a residential, small liberal arts college. This is a small commuter campus that’s part of a huge system. My new job has more administrative responsibilities, too. I learned new things every day in my previous position, of course, but there is something quite different about the blank slate of coming in to a new institution and a new position. So much to learn, so much to do, and so little context or history to help light the way.

Maura: I’ve been a library faculty member at my college for 9 years, three of those as director of the library. But like Jen, right now I find myself in a period of settling in to something changed. I was out on a research sabbatical for six months–most of this calendar year–beginning in early February and returning to the library just last week. I’m in the same job and institution, though the day to day rhythm of my work is vastly different than it was a few weeks ago. As I’ve been settling back in (and trying to remember where I left things in the folders and drawers in my office) I’ve been struck by the similarities to starting a new job. I still have my institutional and historical context, but there’s lots for me to learn (and relearn), too.

What are (the right) questions to ask when you’re trying to (re)learn about a job/institution?

Maura: Since I got back I’ve been arranging meetings with my colleagues to catch up on last semester and their work, and sometimes feel like the questions I’ve asked are quite similar to those I asked when I first became Chief Librarian. What have you been working on? How’re your projects, research, and other work going? Have you hit any roadblocks? Is there any support I can offer? I’m grateful to all of my colleagues, especially my colleague who served as interim director when I was out, for keeping everything running in the Spring. But because nothing is ever truly static there were a few unexpected situations and opportunities that came up while I was away. Learning about those really is like having a new job (though in the same organizational context), especially coming up to speed on new projects in the library for this academic year that hadn’t yet appeared on the horizon before I left on leave.

Jen: I, too, am trying to meet with as many of my new colleagues as I can. For me, that includes library and non-library folks at my local campus, as well as folks in the libraries at other campuses. To prepare for each meeting, I take stock of my running list of questions and choose those that seem most relevant to that person or group. As I look over this list now, I recognize that the questions are a mix of specific (such as, what assessments of student learning outcomes have been done recently?) and open-ended (for example, tell me about your work and responsibilities, how do you think students perceive the library?, what could the library be doing to better meet students’ needs?). Both types of questions provide me with useful information and open avenues for exploration. While the nature or phrasing of some lines of inquiry are likely more productive than others, just showing a sincere interest in others’ goals and challenges and seeking opportunities for alignment and collaboration feels like an important part of what makes this kind of outreach fruitful.

What should we listen for when in meetings, either individually or with committees or teams, both inside and outside the library?

Maura: Listening is important–I’m always working to improve my listening skills (and I think it’s a lifelong process, at least for me). In coming back after sabbatical I’m reminding myself to listen as much as I can: in one on one meetings, in committees, in casual conversations. I’ve been spending some time walking around the library and campus to listen, too, though since our semester hasn’t begun yet it’s still fairly quiet. Typically in conversations we focus on the topic at hand, and I’m reminding myself to listen with both ears open. I’m trying to pay extra attention, not just to the specific task being discussed but to projects and processes in the library as a whole.

Jen: Like Maura, I’m trying to listen on a number of levels. I’m listening for actionable improvements and opportunities, whether in the here-and-now or in the near or distant future. I’m also listening to uncover further questions I should be asking, those that I haven’t yet been able to fathom. I’m listening to understand priorities and goals and challenges and how the library plays a role in supporting or addressing them. I’m listening to figure out how the many moving parts of this large organization fit together and how to navigate and communicate best within and across it. I’m trying to listen for what the other person is really saying, rather than only what I expect or assume they’re telling me. I’m listening for the moments and places where our interests intersect and where we can best collaborate to advance student learning.

What questions do you think are most important to ask when you start a new position or return after time away? What do you wish a new/returning colleague would ask you? What do you find most important to listen for? We’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments.

]]>http://acrlog.org/2017/08/18/were-all-ears-learning-by-listening/feed/0Seeking First Year Academic Librarian Bloggershttp://acrlog.org/2017/08/14/in-search-of-first-year-academic-librarian-bloggers/
http://acrlog.org/2017/08/14/in-search-of-first-year-academic-librarian-bloggers/#respondMon, 14 Aug 2017 14:00:41 +0000http://acrlog.org/?p=5685Continue reading Seeking First Year Academic Librarian Bloggers→]]>With the new academic year coming up soon (or perhaps, for some of you, already begun!), we’re looking to bring on a few new bloggers here at ACRLog. We’d like to thank Dylan Burns and Lily Troia for their terrific posts this past year in our First Year Academic Librarian Experience series. We’d also like to encourage new academic librarians — those who are just beginning in their first position at an academic library — to blog with us during their first year.

If you’re interested in applying to be a FYAL blogger here at ACRLog, please use the ACRLog Tip Page to contact us by September 9. Along with your contact info, please send:

]]>http://acrlog.org/2017/08/14/in-search-of-first-year-academic-librarian-bloggers/feed/0Relationship Priorities from the Forest to the Libraryhttp://acrlog.org/2017/08/11/relationship-priorities-from-the-forest-to-the-library/
http://acrlog.org/2017/08/11/relationship-priorities-from-the-forest-to-the-library/#commentsFri, 11 Aug 2017 21:05:58 +0000http://acrlog.org/?p=7013Continue reading Relationship Priorities from the Forest to the Library→]]>

I just returned from my annual family vacation in Colorado. Amidst the forest bathing and a slower daily pace, I always experience a deep dive into relationship building on these trips. Riding in a compact Fit for the eight hours it takes to get there, and living for a week in a different “home”, does test and stretch patience. The physicality of hiking and even adjusting to new altitudes requires a certain reckoning of oneself. This year we were battling swimmers ear in high altitude and an overall slack in physical fitness. Both required accepting limitations in ways we weren’t used to and spending a greater amount of time in quiet inactivity. With each year, however, I always discover new strengths and unique differences in myself, between fathering and mothering, wifery and husbandry, sibling to sibling, and among hikers who want to push on versus those who want to rest.

This thinking on relationships helpfully segues my mind to the arrival of August and the start of a new school year. As the students return and faculty prepare course syllabi, my more isolated, internal, summertime work turns externally, patron-oriented. As my library is also discussing its strategic priorities for the next two years, words like collaboration, partnership, engagement, and development abound. In every practical discussion around seeing our own work in these priorities, the actionable path forward always points to relationship building. Just me? Perhaps. As one of my favorite quotes suggests, I have come to believe relationships are key to how we accomplish real goals.

I didn’t always think this way. I usually preferred fast and alone. Both personally and professionally, my default is still often internally-focused and analytical. One of the stories I tell about my path to librarianship — besides it being the only result of my junior high career test — is that in my first job as an elementary school music teacher, I was much more interested in discussion music theory than singing songs. Now, it’s true, I justifiably lacked the necessary accompanist skills. Moreover, I know preference for the analytical side to just about everything was to blame. “What a great match for librarianship!” I thought at the time, conceiving the profession as solely concerned with how things ought to be organized. Working in libraries quickly taught me that the most efficient and organized ways involved learning from others. My favorite analytical question soon became “Who?” rather than “How?” or “Why”. Eventually learning to build relationships with vendors became the best way to get what was needed on both sides of a negotiation. Understanding vendors’ relationships within their own organization helped alleviate undue aggravation and reduced miscommunication. My first aha moment as a new leader (and still a magnificent daily challenge) is what comes from just listening to others.

Taking an analytical approach to building relationships made it easier for me in some ways. But, like too much process thinking, it has sometimes kept human connection at a safe distance. I often got by using my analytical side to figure out how I respond to others and circumstances rather than in relationship together with them. Let’s be fair. The relationship business is messy and time-consuming. I’ve learned that can be OK, and how analysis is just one step of many to decluttering it. Working through problems, successes, new ideas, and ultimately changing with others creates bonds. As bonds suggest, I believe stronger relationships and work/life places result.

Thankfully, I can continue analyzing to my heart (or brain?)’s content with ACRLog and in my research. My analytical passion now focuses on seeking ways in which technical services can get beyond mere transactions to richer, more interpersonal communication and sense-making. It’s proven to be messy, challenging, and very worth it.

]]>http://acrlog.org/2017/08/11/relationship-priorities-from-the-forest-to-the-library/feed/2I Can’t Think of Anything to Askhttp://acrlog.org/2017/08/10/i-cant-think-of-anything-to-ask/
http://acrlog.org/2017/08/10/i-cant-think-of-anything-to-ask/#commentsFri, 11 Aug 2017 01:01:32 +0000http://acrlog.org/?p=7010Continue reading I Can’t Think of Anything to Ask→]]>My family and I have been deep in the health care system these past few weeks, in and out of hospitals and doctor’s offices, on the phone scheduling appointments, and in line at pharmacies. Everyone is home, everyone is as fine as can be expected, and long-term plans are being made for maintenance and healing strategies for my family member.

During every interaction with a medical professional, inevitably someone in a coat or scrubs would ask, “Do you have any questions?” or “Is there anything I can answer for you?” or “Do you need anything from me, right now?” In response I always felt like I should have had a list of questions. Occasionally I’d have one or two to tack on to a question a family member already asked, but more often than not I was struck by the feeling of not knowing what to ask.

Information is my field. I teach students how to ask questions and engage in inquiry in subjects that are new to them. I know that when someone asks me if I have any questions, they genuinely want to give me information, because when I ask my students if they have any questions, I want to answer them. That doesn’t change the fact that

Questions are hard to ask; and

Anxiety, fear, sadness, and exhaustion turn brains to mush; and

It’s hard to ask questions with mush for brains.

Every time I unsuccessfully came up with questions to ask about the future health and well-being of my family member I felt like a failure. It felt like such a high-pressure critical moment, as though I could have drastically changed things by simply asking a question that would get to the *right* piece of information that would unlock this whole health puzzle. I know it’s an illogical thought, but again, Mush. Brains. Brain Mush.

I don’t want to equate families seeking health care information with all library patrons seeking information. I know that most people would argue that we are not necessarily in the same headspace or seeking information of equal importance, but really, how do we know? We don’t know what’s going on with our students, faculty, staff, and community members. Assumptions are poor substitutes for empathy, openness, and understanding.

One thing I wish were possible with health care professionals is the opportunity to email them or text them a question after an appointment or hospital visit. I am so frustrated by having to wait until our next meeting to rattle off my list of questions, the ones I could never come up with on the spot, without adequate time to research and reflect. We, as librarians, have that opportunity of continued interaction with our community. It’s what makes us special. We don’t need someone to have all the questions at one critical moment. We’re open to questions whenever they arise. I feel as though I could do a better job of making sure my own community knows that there isn’t just one right time to ask me a question. Questions are always welcome, and compassion is a needed response.